


Taken

by wonderussam



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anal tearing, Ass to Mouth, Barebacking, Blood, Blood As Lube, Bondage, Gags, Kidnapping, M/M, Oral Sex, Painful Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Unsafe Sex, harry is almost 17, sex in second chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9372269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderussam/pseuds/wonderussam
Summary: Harry Potter is whisked away by a portkey to Voldemort's hideout, where the Dark Lord wishes to turn him into a sex slave.





	1. Chapter 1

Lord Voldemort knew now, regardless of his former plans, that he could not kill Harry Potter. How could he when the boy was one of his precious Horcruxes? It would be playing into the old coot’s plans.

No, Voldemort had a different plan for Harry. A plan to destroy the boy utterly, remake him into something else. A tool for the dark. And so Voldemort began to plot and soon, he had a plan.

It was not difficult for Voldemort to intercept the Weasley boy’s infuriating owl, replacing the letter with a portkey. Lucius handled the matter exquisitely, stunning the bird and replacing the letter without so much as breaking a feather. The bird was soon on it’s way to the boy.

The sweltering heat of summer forced Harry to leave his windows open at night for the slightest breeze. Pigwidgeon swooped in, dropping the letter on his head. Harry groaned and opened his eyes, groping for the fallen piece of parchment. The owl perched on Hedwig’s empty cage, hooting excitedly.

Harry sat up slowly, yawning. Grabbing his glasses, he slipped them onto his face. He stroked the owl’s feathers a few times, trying to will it into silence. The Dursleys would not like to be woken up by an owl’s racket after all. Harry pulled his hand back and broke the seal of the letter, pulling out the parchment within. Just as he did so, he felt a sickening lurch and the world began to swirl around him. He was pulled from his bedroom into a swirling vortex.

A few moments later Harry fell in a heap onto a hard marble floor. His head was spinning, and he thought was ‘fucking hell, a portkey!’ He looked around. He was in a darkened room with emerald walls and a black marble floor. There were stern-looking moving portraits on the walls. The letter had fallen to the floor.

‘Definitely a wizard’s house,’ Harry thought apprehensively, ‘But where am I?’

He pulled himself onto his feet. He thought, ‘I need to get back.’

He bent over to pick up the letter, hoping that it would send him back to Privet Drive. Just as he did so, however, the looming oak door scraped open and a jet of red light hit him. The last thing Harry saw was a blonde figure standing in the doorway, features obscured by the dark, and the world went black.

Lucius strolled into the room. He flicked his wand at Harry's limp body, causing it to rise into the air. The spell that he cast made Harry’s body float along behind him a few inches above the ground. Lucius walked out of the room and down a long hallway, illuminated solely by the flickering light of torches. At the end of the hall there was a door. Lucius paused and took a deep breath.

He opened it slowly, and the hinges squeaked. He entered the room. This one was a lot brighter with a large chandelier hanging from the cavernous ceiling. Lit torches hung along the walls, bringing light to every corner of the room.

There was a huge four-poster bed dominating the far side of the room, black silk sheets shining slightly. Closer to the door there was a gaudy black throne, spiky and twisted, where a snake-like figure sat. He was drumming his long, pale fingers on the arm of the chair. When he heard the door open he raised his head, red eyes staring down at the figures.

“You have the boy?” Lord Voldemort hissed.

Yes, my Lord. He is stunned as you instructed.”

“Very good. I am most pleased with you, Lucius.”

Lucius swallowed slightly and bowed his head. He said, “thank you, my Lord.”

“Place him on the bed and bind him.”

Nodding, Lucius did so. He brought Harry just beside the bed and flicked his wand. This caused Harry's limp form to rise then fall onto the dark sheets. With another flick, Harry's body was made to lay spread eagle, arms and legs bound to the posts. 

Lucius turned around and bowed to his lord. He remained bent over until Voldemort said, “leave me.”

Inclining his head, Lucius hurried from the room, shutting the door behind him with a muffled click.

Voldemort stood up and walked towards Harry, black robes flapping out behind him like wings. He stalked around the bed, surveying his prey.

Harry lay there, frozen. His eyes were shut, and his body was limp. There was a slight bruise forming on his forehead from where he fell to the floor. His ratty pajamas were all too big for him, masking his muscular form. If it weren't for the bonds stretching him into an unnatural position, it would look as if Harry were asleep.

Voldemort raised his wand and trailed it up the leg of Harry’s track pants. They split beneath it, exposing Harry's bare skin. He continued to do this until Harry lay bare, scraps of fabric fallen beneath him. With a flick of his wand the mess vanished.

Voldemort trailed one of his long, pale fingers over Harry's chest. He was quite fit despite being on the thin side. Definitely a young man rather than a boy.

His hand wandered downward to Harry’s curls surrounding the base of his flaccid penis. He stroked them, thinking. He withdrew his hand and cast a spell. All of Harry's body hair vanished save for that of his head and eyebrows. Everywhere else was as smooth as the day he was born.

“And with the right potion, you will stay that way. Hairless, pristine… the perfect whore.”

Pointing his wand at Harry’s slack mouth, Voldemort conjured a gag. It stretched the mouth wide open, turning it into a perfect O. Drool began to drip from his mouth and Voldemort smirked. Harry would be unable to speak, but he could still hear his grunts and moans. And of course his screams. Perfect.

“I think it is time you joined me, Potter. Enervate!”


	2. Chapter 2

Harry's body jerked, and he opened his eyes slowly. His head was throbbing, and his jaw ached. His scar felt like it was being branded. He tried to sit up, but the bonds stopped him. Realizing that he was naked and bound to a bed, Harry whimpered.

He heard a soft, cruel laugh. Harry shifted his eyes slowly to the figure standing at the foot of the bed. Fucking hell, Voldemort. He was just standing there, staring down at Harry’s nude form.

Harry flinched when Voldemort reached out his hand and stroked him, scar protesting, and let out a small groan.

‘This can’t be happening,’ Harry thought to himself, ‘this must be a dream. I’m dreaming.’

“This is not a dream, Potter.”

Harry flinched at the sound of Voldemort’s voice. Voldemort smirked, withdrawing his hand.

“It was so simple to intercept the Weasley boy’s owl. Lucius just had to switch out the letter, and now you are mine.”

Harry’s eyes widened, and he shook his head.

“Yes, Potter, you are mine. And you will soon know all that that entails. But for now…”

Voldemort climbed onto the bed. He loomed over Harry, crimson eyes staring into emerald, and said.

“I shall claim you.”

Voldemort leaned back and ran his cold hand down Harry's chest. He scraped his long fingers along Harry's skin, leaving behind red trails. When he reached the boy’s groin, he lightened his touch, whispering his finger over Harry's soft length.

It remained limp, fear keeping Harry from reacting to the friction. Pulling his hand back, Voldemort smirked. He pulled his black robes off over his head and tossed them carelessly onto the floor. Voldemort’s lean, pale body was exposed. He was hairless and bony; flesh pulled tight over his ribs. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see.

Voldemort tapped his wand on Harry's stomach, making it glow blue for a few seconds. Harry shuddered as he felt his guts empty, feeling strangely light. He kept his eyes shut.

Voldemort summoned a vial of a clear, thick liquid then set his wand down on the floor. He rested the sealed bottle on the sheets and crawled over beside Harry, bringing his crotch to Harry's face. He stroked his considerable length to hardness and lined it up with Harry’s open mouth.

Harry felt the shift of the bed as his only warning before Voldemort shoved his long penis into Harry’s mouth. Harry gagged at both the salty taste and the sensation of the hardness poking the back of his throat, bile rising. This did not deter Voldemort; he just pushed deeper, reveling in the spasms of Harry's tight throat against his member.

Harry’s eyes flew open. He wished he could bite down, but his efforts were thwarted by the metal ring covering his teeth. Voldemort’s stomach hit Harry's nose as he thrust in experimentally, burying himself to the hilt. Harry's throat bulged around him, wet flesh stretched tight against the width of his member, twitching violently. Harry had no choice but to try to swallow Voldemort’s prick down so that he would not choke.

Voldemort pulled out every minute or so, allowing Harry to gasp a few breaths. His thrusts began to speed up, bruising Harry's tender flesh, making his eyes water. It wasn’t long before Voldemort's hips stuttered, pressing in deep then stilling, allowing his seed to spill inside Harry’s wet heat. Harry had no choice but to swallow down the thick fluid.

Just as Harry's vision started to blacken, Voldemort pulled out with a wet plop, dragging his flaccid prick down Harry's chin. Harry gasped, inhaling deeply, desperate for air.

Voldemort just smiled. He said, “enjoyed that, didn’t you Potter?

Harry just glared up at Voldemort, eyes narrowed.

“It does not matter. Your throat is quite enjoyable; I will enjoy using it in the future. As will my men.”

Harry looked down and swallowed. His face was tinged green. He was beginning to accept that this was not a dream, it felt too real, but still… Was this indeed what was happening to him? Was he going to become some toy for his parent’s killer?

He was distracted from his thoughts by Voldemort shifting down the bed. He knelt between Harry’s spread legs. Reaching behind him, Voldemort picked up his wand. He flicked them at Harry’s legs, causing them to lift up, putting his arse on display. Harry whimpered at the stretch.

Voldemort tapped his spit-slickened penis, bringing it to full hardness once more. He set down his wand again, reaching for the vial of lubricant. He uncorked it and poured the thick, clear fluid onto his hand.

“Time to test this beautiful hole of yours.”

Voldemort slicked up one of his fingers and circled it around Harry’s pucker. Harry squeezed his eyes shut; body clenched tight. Voldemort began to push into Harry's velvety heat, lubrication overcoming the resistance.

Harry whimpered at the feeling of fullness. Voldemort said, “so tight…” He jabbed his finger in harder.

“Must be a virgin. Perfect.”

He withdrew his finger. He rubbed his wet hand over his hardness, slicking it up.

“It would be a pity to waste that on fingers.”

Harry shuddered at his enemy’s silky voice. He felt sick, bile rising in his sore throat. His scar throbbed as Voldemort drew nearer, rubbing his magically hardened member against Harry’s taint.

Voldemort began to push his prick into Harry's tight pucker. He pushed harder and harder against Harry's resistance, body slowly parting beneath him. Harry's emerald eyes began to water, and he whimpered. It felt like a white hot brand was being forced into him. The head popped inside and the slick member slid inevitably in. After a few long moments, Voldemort was seated inside his prey.

Voldemort inhaled deeply, the slits of his nostrils widening. Harry felt exquisite, tight, trembling heat clenching his body like a vise. He looked down at Harry's shaking form for a few moments. He brought up his left hand and brushed one of the tears from his eyes. Harry flinched at this and glared up at his enemy.

His lightning bolt scar was an angry red color, inflamed from the proximity. When Voldemort began to shift inside Harry, he let out a soft groan. It just hurt so much. He could feel himself splitting as Voldemort began to thrust, getting faster and faster and faster, wetness trickling down from Harry's opening.

Voldemort was smiling, looming over Harry's bound form. He reveled in his quiet whimpers and moans, taking great delight in thrusting in at odd angles to cause maximum pain.

“So tight, Potter.” Voldemort’s hips slapped against Harry's arse, wrinkled balls smacking against him. “You were made for this.”

Harry shook his head. Voldemort crooked an eyebrow.

“No? Pity. You will have to get used to it. This is all you are good for now after all.”

As Voldemort thrust, he hissed at Harry.

“You are mine now, Potter. Mine. You will live the rest of your life in service to me. I will brand you with my mark and leave you to my men’s mercy. You,” he thrust in viciously, making Harry let out a small scream, “will be nothing but a hole to fuck. You will be an example to all your precious friends. Tell me, Potter, what would they say if they could see you now?”

All Harry could do was seethe in silence, mind filled with hate. Voldemort continued.

“Maybe I will capture the Weasley brat and the mudblood as well. Greyback was looking for more toys.”

This was too much for Harry. His magic reacted, slamming Voldemort back. He was ripped from his body, torn hole trickling crimson, and Voldemort fell onto the floor. Voldemort lay there for a few moments, then oh so slowly rose to his feet. He spit out a glob of blood from his mouth then reached for his wand.

Harry lay there, stunned. He hadn't performed accidental magic in years. While he was pleased with being able to lash out, the look on Voldemort's face scared him. He shifted as much as he could on the mattress, wishing that his momentary burst of magic had freed him as well.

Voldemort walked forward, wand drawn on Harry. He whispered, “think you can resist me, boy? Crucio!”

Harry screamed and thrashed as the red stream of light hit him. His muscles went taught as they screamed in pain, his torn hole clenching tight. After several long minutes, Voldemort lowered his wand, placing it back on top of his discarded robes.

Harry just continued to twitch in pain, letting out a constant groan. Voldemort strode forward once more, stopping at the end of the bed. He thrust his dry finger into Harry's tensed hole, blood the only thing slicking the way. If Harry was tight before, it was nothing compared to the sheer tension of his body now. Voldemort pulled his finger downwards, widening the tears and making Harry scream again.

He pulled his bloody finger out and licked it, savoring the rusty tang. He said, “you will regret that, Potter.”

All Harry could do was shudder. He felt so overwhelmed with pain and fear that tears began to run down his face. Voldemort climbed back onto the bed, and he flinched. When Voldemort rubbed his hard prick against Harry, he whimpered. All he could think was, ‘no, please! No…”

Voldemort ignored Harry's thoughts. He began to rub his drooling member against the boy’s swollen pucker. The lubricant had long since dried in the air. Harry just screamed as Voldemort began to push his practically dry prick into his heat.

Harry's body tore open around the invading member, blood smoothing the way somewhat. The cruciatus curse had tightened up Harry to the point where it felt like he was being split in half by the intrusion. Flashes of pain shot up his spine as Voldemort buried himself inside. Not giving Harry an instant to adjust, Voldemort began to thrust once more.

The wet squelch of Harry’s bleeding hole being forced open was drowned out by Harry's hoarse screams. With each movement he felt as if sandpaper was being dragged against his inner walls, catching his broken skin. It would be bulged out with each outward movement and forced in with each thrust, feeling like his insides were being pulled out with Voldemort’s prick.

Harry's screams eventually died, replaced with dull grunts and whimpers. Voldemort did not care; he just sped up his movements. The violent slaps were bruising Harry's arse. The intense friction did not even feel particularly good to Voldemort, but he was reveling in the echoed agony saturating their bond.

After several long minutes, Voldemort pushed in as deep as possible then stilled. The salty stream of semen stung Harry's torn walls as it splashed out. When Voldemort began to soften he pulled out with a loud plop, a stream of bloody come trickling out of Harry's hole.

Voldemort stepped back. He surveyed his dirty work, smirking. Harry's hole was bloody and torn, forced open. It looked like a black maw stretching inside the boy. He looked down at his member and grimaced. It was stained red with blood.

He stood there for a few instants, considering. Then he climbed back up onto the bed, bringing his filthy prick up to Harry's face. Harry turned his head, feeling nauseated by the rusty smell of his blood. Voldemort just grabbed his head and forced his soft prick inside.

He hissed, “clean me.”

Harry had no choice but to lick the bloody member, tongue swirling around the limp prick. He gagged at the taste of rust and salt filling his mouth, wishing that the gag would let him just bite down, destroy the thing that had caused him so much pain. He could not, though.

Voldemort remained inside until he was confident that his member was as clean as it was going to get. He pulled out, flaccid length trailing down Harry's chin, smearing it with saliva. Voldemort sat down beside Harry's stretched form. He stroked Harry's toned stomach slowly.

“Severus shall heal you; then you will be given to my men. They deserve a reward for their hard work. Then we shall put you on display, show the world that I have won.”

Harry just glared up at him, eyes wet. Voldemort laughed slowly, then reached for the gag. He slipped it out of Harry’s mouth and tossed it across the room. It vanished before it could hit the floor. Harry stretched out his jaw for a few moments, then whispered, “you’re dead, Voldemort. I will kill you.”

“Really? No wand, no friends. You don’t stand a chance. Now,” Voldemort stood up, “Severus shall administer the potions. I don’t think you will like the changes, but that does not matter now, does it?”

Voldemort pulled on his robes and strode out of the room, leaving Harry tied up on the bed. Tears trickled from Harry’s eyes as he pulled on the bonds, trying to get free. The door slammed shut, and Harry gave up, closing his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! This got quite dark. I may continue it, but I am still unsure. Please comment if you want!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. I may continue this beyond two chapters, but I am still unsure. Please comment if you want.


End file.
